


Base Pair

by MechBull



Category: X-Men, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M, Unsafe Sex, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27312811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: They belong together. They complement each other. And even after they’ve gone their separate ways, they can’t resist that bond.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	Base Pair

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal in July 2011.
> 
> This is movieverse only, and more specifically First Class-verse.

A few months after Cuba, they were basically racing against each other in a global scavenger hunt. Magneto knew that it wouldn’t take long for Charles to realize he had taken the latest list of coordinates from Cerebro. He also knew, however, with a certainty that almost suggested _he_ was the mind-reader, that Charles would rush first to find the mutants in the most danger. The ones who needed help and protection and a family. The ones whose lives were at risk, who couldn’t defend themselves.

It would never even have occurred to Charles to go after the mutant children that Magneto himself was trying to find. The ones who were walking weapons. Charles was building a school, a refuge, a home. Magneto was building an army.

And yet, despite their opposing objectives, occasionally and by chance they would seek the same young mutant. They never saw each other, but Magneto _knew_ ; he could sense whether Charles had been there or he had sent his team instead. There would be a confused bystander, perhaps, uncertain why they couldn’t remember the last few minutes. Slight indentations where the wheels of that damn chair had rolled across the ground. Occasionally, Magneto would even swear traces of Charles’ aftershave lingered in the air.

Those times, as nearby streetlamps rattled and small pieces of metal on the ground flicked up into the sky, he tried to pretend his frustration and anger arose from the failure to recruit the mutant for himself. He tried to convince himself he was simply annoyed they were too late despite Azazel’s ability to teleport the team to the very location they needed to be. He knew, however, deep down, that the rage and despair and sense of almost unbearable loss was due to the fact that they weren’t fast enough – never fast enough to see _him_. And Magneto wondered if Charles felt the same, if he fought keen disappointment the times he arrived moments after Magneto left, if he ever entertained the notion, even for the briefest of moments, of tarrying, taking ever so slightly longer than necessary just for the chance of catching a glimpse of Magneto.

He wondered if Charles thought about him as much as he thought about Charles. Because he thought about him all the time, really. He kept tabs on him and his activities, of course, as he knew Charles must have been doing as well (although probably in less illegal ways than asking a shapeshifter to stroll into government and hospital offices), but those brief and professional reports weren’t nearly enough to satisfy the obsessive need Magneto felt. After a lifetime of being on his own, he was finding it more difficult than he could ever imagine, going back to that. It was almost worse, in a way, having the others around – Emma with her smug, knowing look; Mystique with her sympathetic “I miss him too” expressions. He was never alone anymore, but he didn’t have the one person he wanted.

**

Charles never flirted anymore. He was serious and quiet, studious and sad. He’d sit for hours in his office, elbow perched on the armrest of his chair as he propped his chin in his hand and stared out the window. At the moment, he and Hank split the teaching and training duties, and he welcomed his growing class of students readily whenever they came to him for instruction, either in their powers or in more typical academic pursuits.

And then, when they left, he’d return to his thoughts. He rarely smiled or laughed. And the rare occasions he went out, either to town or on a mutant recovery trip, he never, _never_ flirted.

He liked to tell himself he had no time for frivolous social pursuits anymore. He had so many more important things to worry about, after all. And when he was indulging in self-pity, he told himself it was because of the chair. _Things_ still worked – it was just his legs that no longer functioned – but that didn’t mean anyone would want a lover who couldn’t respond, who couldn’t even move. But, alone in his bed at night when forced to be honest with himself, the truth could be admitted and acknowledged, turned over in his mind even as he held the evidence of it throbbing and leaking in the palm of his hand. Charles didn't flirt anymore. The only person he wanted was lost to him forever.

He remembered. It was the curse of his powerful mind, that he remembered everything. The curve of Erik’s almost manic smile, the damp trail of tears at raw and exposed emotion, the warmth of his muscular thigh as it rested next to his own on the bed in the club when they had first met Angel. The power and grief that rolled off him and crashed over Charles, and the soft, sweet, happy memories buried deep that only Charles could ferret out. He remembered the sly smirk as Erik moved a chess piece, and the way he would glance to Charles when they would train the others, a shared, vague secret of sorts drifting between them. Charles remembered the way Erik would try to protect him, always seeming to have one eye on Charles whenever possible. He remembered with warmth – even heat, now that the pain and loss and confusion had abandoned the memory, the way that Erik held him on the beach. His strong legs cradling Charles’ already-numbing body, his palm resting on Charles’ torso while the other gripped almost painfully at the back of his neck. Charles’s mind could (and often did, the treacherous organ) change that image now. It turned the worry and fear into passion and desire, closed the distance between them. In his mind, Erik would press his lips to Charles’, and Charles’ body could respond, surging up and against Erik’s.

Every night now, he thought about those moments that never happened. He embellished them more and more, taking the others out of the scene, discarding their clothes as well. Leaving just Erik and himself, happy and laughing and teasing, trying to one-up each other even in this. Their bodies sliding against each other, their minds connected…

 _Things_ still worked. Charles almost wished they didn’t.

**

In the months that followed, Magneto had needed to push both Mystique and Emma away multiple times. It wasn’t like he was immune to their charms; he would have given anything to be able to lose himself in their bodies for a few blissful moments. But the first time Emma had come to him and he had resisted, he had felt her in his thoughts. It was nothing like the soft, caring, nudging exploration he was used to with Charles. It was an invasion, merciless and almost painful as she tore into the recesses of his mind. And she had smirked before throwing his own words back at him, reminding him that he was the one who had wanted to fill the void left in his life and yet here he was, turning her away.

And then Mystique, of course, still missing Charles as much as Magneto was. Still pining for him. But day by day, her anger and hatred for lesser humans grew under Magneto’s carefully-placed comments, and the details of her former life were forgotten or at least ignored. As she became more confident and assured, she began trying once more to join Magneto in his bed. Part of him wanted to accept, welcome her. If he couldn’t have her brother, after all… But he held back, no matter what provocative form she took. When, in her anger and humiliation at his rejection, she momentarily appeared as Charles himself, Magneto nearly killed her. The confused shock on her face as she changed back to her natural form brought him back to the present; she must have realized or recognized something, however, in those moments, because she hadn’t returned to his rooms. Magneto tried to believe he was thankful for that; he tried _not_ to think about whether he could convince her to take the form again. Would a poor, shadowy reflection be enough, if he couldn’t have the real thing?

**

Charles had steady friends surrounding him. He should not have wanted for companionship, so he tried to convince himself he didn’t.

Hank was more than Erik’s equal in chess, and now that he had almost entirely confined himself to the mansion, he was always willing to join Charles for a match or two.

Alex and Sean – or Havok and Banshee, as they preferred to be called almost all the time now – made Charles laugh with their antics as they teased and fought like affectionate brothers.

Bea, a barely pubescent girl with purple skin and the gift of teleportation, had been abandoned by her parents even before her mutations had manifested, and as such, was overly affectionate with Charles in her insecurity and need. He accepted the hugs readily, conscious of how he had failed both Erik and Raven, in different ways. Wanting to make up for that, even as he, perhaps selfishly, wanted to feel some sort of contact again.

Twenty-year-old Tony, gorgeous beyond all reason, able to make himself invisible, filled with anger and pain at his experiences prior to finding his way to Xavier’s School, wasn’t as subtle as Charles imagined he would have liked to believe he was. Charles caught his eye occasionally when Tony was staring at him longingly. They ended up alone in rooms and back hallways too often to be coincidental. Tony more than eagerly aided Charles if he ever needed assistance when moving from his chair, and Charles noted Tony’s warm palms always held him for a second longer than necessary, dragged across him in something resembling a caress as he released him. It all served to remind Charles of the particular desires that had been woken in him for the first time only several months earlier.

But, try as Charles might, he could never convince himself it was enough. That the pieces could somehow be cobbled together into even a pale imitation of the whole that he truly wanted back. He knew he could never find any single person that – they were cytosine and guanine, Erik and him. Adenine and thymine. Made to fit together perfectly. Destined for each other and each other only.

**

One of the very first things Magneto did, when they found a suitable place in which to base their headquarters, was build a bedroom for himself. He would need a room where he could relax, remove the helmet, not worry about Charles finding him. So, basing the construction on the inner room of Shaw’s submarine, Magneto reinforced the walls of his rooms and, to a lesser extent, their entire base.

It ended up being rather pointless, however, as it only took a few days for him to start tempting fate. He’d started keeping the helmet off for longer and longer, at different times of day, hoping, wishing, waiting for the little touches that marked Charles’ presence in his mind.

Every once in a while, he’d feel _something_. But he wondered how much of it was his own imagination. How much was just wishful thinking as he fantasized about being with Charles on the beach, tackling each other and rolling around for much more enjoyable reasons than what had actually been the case. Running his hands over Charles’ body, not to check for any injuries, but just to feel him. Staring at each other in desire and affection instead of pain and betrayal and impending separation.

The fantasies were so vivid, so demanding, that Magneto wondered idly if he had any free will over them at all. They almost felt like some kind of compulsion, like images projected into his head rather than something he himself invented. It wasn’t until they reached a peak a few weeks after they began that Magneto realized that was exactly what they were. He was stretched out on his back, alone in the courtyard, his helmet on the ground next to him, his body quivering as he came down from the pleasure, the sticky evidence of his desire drying on his stomach. And just as he pictured a satiated Charles curling his body along the length of his own, he heard it clearly.

 _Erik_ , Charles’ voice said, the subsequent sigh echoing throughout his mind.

Magneto sat up, breathing quickly as the presence in his brain became much more noticeable in its own shocked confusion. He heard his name again, questioning this time, and he reached out, immediately floating the helmet up and onto his head. Magneto stared ahead at the ground, unblinking.

**

Charles knew exactly when Erik and Azazel arrived, although he wasn’t sure if it was the sound of Azazel bringing them there or his mental presence that first alerted him. Regardless, he didn’t acknowledge their appearance. He never even lifted his chin from his fist as he stared out at the destruction he had discovered half an hour ago when he had traveled there, searching for the young mutant.

He vaguely sensed Azazel’s skepticism and objection before the man disappeared again. Moments later, he heard someone step up beside him. Finally lifting his head, he stared at Erik, who was still wearing that entirely too silly helmet. Charles stared ahead again and sighed.

“I’m afraid we were both too late, my friend,” he observed.

After a moment’s pause, Erik inhaled. “Why do you call me that?”

Charles felt his heart clench. “I’ll always consider you my friend,” he finally said softly. “I know who you are beneath…everything.”

Erik snorted derisively, barely shaking his head. “So like you, Charles. Blinders on to everything and everyone.”

“You are…a good man, Erik.”

“You want to believe we’re all so much more _decent_ than we are.”

“I want to believe there is a way for everyone to live together peacefully, yes,” Charles said firmly.

Erik walked forward a few steps, gesturing to the damage in front of him. Turning to face Charles again, his arm still outstretched, he asked pointedly, “And what about this? How do you explain this?”

Charles sighed. “A mutant manifested and was unable to control his powers. People reacted badly, and the situation escalated. It’s – regrettable, but – ”

“Regrettable? _Regrettable_?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you,” Erik said, his voice dropping low as he walked over to Charles, leaned down and rested his hands on the armrests of the chair, “to admit that no mutant will be safe as long as – ”

“As long as they are feared,” Charles interrupted. “But the only way to get rid of that fear is to – ”

“They _should_ be afraid.”

Charles exhaled loudly, as he reversed his chair to dislodge Erik’s hands and then turned it away. “I don’t want to have this argument. Not the first time we’ve seen each other in God knows how long.”

Charles didn’t have to be psychic to sense Erik watching him, feel his eyes following him as he began to leave.

“I don’t want to fight either,” Erik said, and Charles stopped his chair in its tracks at the tone in his voice.

As Charles turned the chair back around, he glanced up at Erik. Erik’s face had suddenly changed, a look of longing more than apparent.

“I’ve been dreaming about you,” he continued softly after clearing his throat. “At least – I think I have been. It’s hard to tell.”

Charles inhaled slowly, ultimately dropping his gaze to avoid revealing anything. A moment later, he looked back up and watched as Erik’s expression turned sly and seductive. Erik stalked closer, and Charles’ breathing quickened. He licked his lips, swallowed, moved his mouth in an attempt to say something.

Erik beat him to it. “Do you need to hurry back?”

Charles stared at him, as he remembered how absolutely unbearable the last few months had been, as he thought about how this would change everything, as he worried about the repercussions both on a global scale and a personal one – how much more terrible would it be if they actually did this and Erik still…

Somewhere inside him, he decided it would all come down to Erik’s response to one simple request.

“Take off your helmet,” Charles said.

Erik hesitated for a moment. Charles held his breath, finally exhaling as, with a twitch of Erik’s finger, the helmet slowly rose off his head.

Seconds later, anyone in the vicinity would have wondered where the two men had gone, if they had even been aware they were there in the first place.

**

Since the moment he first felt Charles inside his head again, Magneto needed to resist physically trembling in excitement, relief, happiness, and a strange sort of fear. Despite his rather bold seduction of Charles prior to that, he felt awkward and vulnerable, and he didn’t lose that feeling until they were in the hotel room, inches away from the bed, and he could sense a hint of reluctance from Charles.

“Have you done this?” Magneto asked quietly.

“Of course,” Charles replied vocally, a slightly different response immediately and most likely unintentionally appearing in Magneto’s mind.

“But not with a man,” Magneto concluded.

Charles was quiet for a moment. Then he looked up at Magneto, his expression open. “And not since…” his voice trailed off, and then he gestured at his legs. “I don’t know how you could want me like this.”

Magneto walked quickly over to his old friend, kneeling in front of him. “I don’t know how you could want _me_ after it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re in that chair because of me,” Magneto replied, his voice tight with emotion.

Charles shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“That’s not what you said before.”

“It was an accident. It’s nobody’s fault.”

Magneto stared at him skeptically.

“Trust me,” Charles said in his best professor voice.

“Then trust me when I say it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Charles smiled, revealing the cheeky and flirtatious man Magneto first knew. Magneto felt that smile echo throughout his entire body. He returned it with one of his own, the expression unusual and almost creepy on him these days.

“How exactly do you feel about – “

Before Charles could complete his teasing question, Magneto pushed up from his knees, surging to meet Charles. The first time their lips and tongues and teeth touched was almost as world-changing as the first time their minds had touched. Magneto reached a hand up, clasping the back of Charles’ neck as he tilted his own head and deepened the kiss.

 _Erik_ , Charles’ voice whispered in his mind, and Magneto smirked against his lips, remembering the same connection during their shared fantasies.

This was so much better.

And then it was Charles’ turn to smile and even laugh into the kiss as Magneto buried both hands deep into Charles’ too-long hair while simultaneously unfastening the button and lowering the zipper of his pants. Magneto chuckled himself then, moving his arms down to pull Charles’ pants out from under him and down to his knees. Charles placed both his hands on either side of Magneto’s face, leaning forward to draw him back into a kiss.

 _I thought about this all the time._ The confession rattled around Magneto’s head, seeping even into the corners of his brain he kept hidden from all emotion. _Playing chess in my study, the hours of training, all those nights in hotels around the world. Every moment we spent together, this was all I could think about._

Magneto broke the kiss just long enough to mumble, “It was all I could do not to think about it.”

“I wish you had,” Charles replied, laughing breathlessly.

Magneto didn’t respond, instead dropping down and exhaling a warm breath onto Charles’ straining cock. Charles moaned as he shivered in pleasure. He cupped his palms around Magneto’s ears, his fingers curling against the smooth skin behind them, and Magneto took the hint and wrapped his mouth around Charles.

**

Charles bent over his body, cradling Erik’s head, gasping as Erik’s tongue swirled around his cock. _More, please more_ , he thought, and Erik immediately obliged with deep suction. Charles exhaled roughly, leaning back against the seat of the chair and staring blindly toward the ceiling. With great effort, he clamped down on his own thoughts and projections, instead feeling around inside Erik’s mind. There wasn’t much coherency there, merely roiling waves of pleasure from the mental and emotional contact as well as the physical, from the relief at being together after so long apart, from the need to make this _count_ in a way that Charles didn’t want to explore too closely.

It was almost overwhelming, the connection between them, the passion building to a frenzied peak as it passed between their thoughts, the wet roughness of Erik’s tongue and the roof of his mouth. Charles was grateful when, unexpectedly, Erik took his attention away from the depths of what was happening between them. He himself managed to calm down slightly then as well, laughing joyfully even as he groaned, as his chair began to rock back and forth steadily but slowly while Erik held his head perfectly still. Erik curled his fingers toward him and then pushed the palm away, guiding the metal spokes of the wheels to imitate thrusts. Charles slid further down Erik’s throat with every approach, and then pulled slowly out from between his stretched-thin lips. He stared down at Erik’s face, admiring the long lashes resting against the tops of his cheeks and listening to the soft grunts and moans he made as Charles’ cock pressed into him again and again.

It was too much, and try as he might, Charles couldn’t hold back. With a mental shout, he released, spilling down Erik’s throat. Erik groaned, choking slightly, and then wrapped his arms around Charles’ waist as he pulled himself even closer and swallowed every last drop. Mere moments after the last few jolts of his orgasm pulsed through Charles, Erik began to move his head again, licking the length of Charles’ sensitive cock. Hissing, Charles grabbed at his clothes, pulling him up, shaking in pleasure as Erik kissed every bit of his torso he could reach until they were face-to-face again. Erik immediately took the hint, covering Charles’ lips with his own, thrusting his tongue into Charles’ mouth and groaning as Charles began sucking on it.

Charles ran his hands over Erik’s shoulders and upper back, smoothing the fabric of the shirt underneath his palms. Dropping his hands down in front again, he deftly unbuttoned it before reaching up again and sliding the garment over Erik’s shoulders.

“Off, off!” he muttered urgently, and Erik obliged, shaking quickly to speed the shirt’s fall to the ground.

Just as quickly, Erik scooped his arms underneath Charles’ pits, hoisting him up out of the chair. Charles grunted once in surprise, clinging to Erik’s shoulders as he feared collapsing to the ground. Erik didn’t let go though, not until he maneuvered him over to the bed and all but threw him on top of the mattress. Charles propped himself up on his elbows, grinning in anticipation as Erik unfastened his pants and kicked them off, finally revealing his full, thick cock.

Charles swallowed, dragging his eyes over Erik’s groin and then again up his torso and to his face. Erik flashed him an impossibly broad grin as he finally stepped closer, knelt on the edge of the bed, then lowered himself on to Charles. Charles exhaled when their cocks came into contact with each other, grateful beyond all words that he could still feel that, at the very least. And then he reached up, wrapped his hands around Erik’s head, and pulled him down to meet his lips in another searing kiss.

Erik only allowed it for a minute, however, before he backed away again. Slinking down the length of Charles’ body, sliding his palms over the warm skin, tangling his fingers in Charles’ chest hair, he finally reached his destination. Charles angled his head up awkwardly, breathing roughly as he watched Erik lift Charles’ unresponsive legs and throw them over his shoulders. He then completely surprised Charles by dropping his head low enough to lick and suck and bite at Charles’ ass, his tongue thrusting into the crease. Charles’ head fell back again as he moaned up towards the ceiling. He lifted his arms over his head so he could cling to the rungs of the headboard, using them as support as he pushed and pulled himself up and down the mattress, separating from Erik for tantalizing seconds before reconnecting again.

Charles continued the motion, with only a small whimper when Erik pulled away for good. The sound of Erik spitting into his palm made his heart beat wildly. And then he felt the pressure and pleasure and pain of a few fingers pushing into him, followed (too quickly and not quickly enough) by Erik’s cock. He would have shown Erik his thoughts, would have tried to read his as well, if only he had been able to think at all.

Erik lifted to meet Charles again, kissing him deeply and grunting into his mouth as he thrust inside. Charles’ legs repeatedly slid off Erik’s shoulders, and Erik would spare a moment to replace them again and again until finally he just let them fall. Charles dug his nails into Erik’s skin, taking each thrust with a small gasp. And when Erik plunged deeply into him one final time, holding him close as his body and mind released into Charles and filled him completely, Charles’ eyes flew open in ecstasy at feeling climax again so unexpectedly soon. Every metal object in the room, from the door handle and keys on the coffee table to the bolts of the light fixtures and the bed posts rattled forcefully.

**

Magneto hid a smile as he moved his forehead in a smooth caress against the skin between Charles’ shoulders. He had spent the last several minutes stroking his fingers over Charles' tender asshole, feeling the remnants of his passion trickle out of him. Now, though, he slid his hand over and around Charles’ hip and up his stomach, tangling into the strands of hair tapering down towards his groin. Charles chuckled throatily before inhaling and pressing one arm down to turn his upper body towards Magneto. He lifted his eyebrows challengingly and Magneto suppressed a smirk as he leaned in for another kiss.

Breaking free again, Charles settled back against him. He lifted Magneto’s hand, playing with it by interlocking their fingers and pressing their palms together. And then he grazed the tips of his fingers further up, began tracing the numbers inked there with a sort of reverent wonder. Magneto swallowed down emotion and pulled his hand away, rolling to his back and putting distance between them.

Charles sighed as he pushed himself onto his elbows and looked around the rather destroyed room. He snorted once in amusement.

“I’m going to have to get a plastic wheelchair if I want any sort of control in this relationship.”

Perhaps it was a joke. The tone of his voice certainly suggested it was. But Magneto was feeling far too exposed at the moment, and he didn’t find it funny.

“I think we both realize I can’t make you do anything.”

Charles did a slight double take, looking at Magneto suspiciously but not saying anything. Magneto sighed. He could feel the atmosphere shift as the differences which separated them suddenly appeared once again and began to underscore their conversation.

“If you didn’t want me to use my power, why’d you help me learn to master it?” he added pointedly as he dropped his head down to the bed.

“I wish sometimes I hadn’t,” Charles said, his voice almost too quiet to be heard. Magneto turned to look at him. “If I had known how you would use it…”

Magneto threw the covers aside and climbed off the bed. He reached out for his pants and began to pull them on, never turning to face Charles.

“Before,” Charles said, clear and firm now, “you were like a _child_ , flailing in anger but ultimately ineffectual, especially in the bigger scheme of things. I should have taught you how to handle _that_ , the emotion. How to deal with pain and loss like everyone else, instead of giving you the tools to – ”

“What do you know about pain and loss, Charles? Spend a lifetime in that chair and then come talk to me.”

Charles cut off a reply, biting his tongue as he looked to the side and shook his head. After a moment, he began again. “Erik – ”

“I prefer Magneto.”

“I will not call you that. That is not who you are.”

“It is. It's who they made me. It’s who I have to be.”

“I refuse to believe open war is the only way.”

Magneto turned quickly, walking over to the bed again and sitting in front of Charles. He leaned forward, grasping the back of his neck and holding him closer in an almost painful embrace.

“But war is coming, Charles. Whether you want it or not. And they _will_ come for us. They will round us up and mark us and kill us. And you, with your naïve optimism, what will happen to you? I can’t protect you from that.”

Charles sighed, leaning into Magneto's touch for a moment and closing his eyes. Then he inhaled in determination as he looked back up at Magneto. “When that day comes, Erik, I will be in the middle, protecting them and my children from you.”

Magneto dropped his hand slowly and sat up. “Nothing’s changed, has it?” he asked, the resignation clear. “We’ll never agree on this.”

Charles shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my friend.”

“So what now?”

Charles didn’t answer, verbally or telepathically, and the long silence shattered through Magneto’s skull like a bullet he couldn’t stop.


End file.
